


shards

by sugarskrub



Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Vent fic?, i mean its soap but like, kind of ?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarskrub/pseuds/sugarskrub
Summary: Bennett, "B12", is barely a person. More than a person, he's a monster.... God, he hates himself.
Kudos: 6





	shards

Bennett wasn't a normal sixteen year old. Not even a normal sixteen year old for B-type humans like himself, since he lived on a wholly different planet from most of the rest of his species.

Bennett absolutely wasn't normal. But he wanted to be.

Wasted time, wasted life, and intensifying loneliness brought longing desperately into his heart.

He wished he could've had a childhood outside of a box.

Hardly even a person, he saw himself. 

More of a monster than a teenager.

Was it so pathetic to want a life that didn't leave him dead inside, clawing to have some  _ shred,  _ some  _ semblance  _ of a life he never thought he could?

Bennett was really disgusting wasn't he?

As he sits on the couch and stares distantly at a show he’s seen a thousand times, watched a thousand hours of, he wishes he could feel anything about himself beyond seething hatred and vehement disgust. He wishes he could have the sweet, fluffy kind of life in video games and anime, the ones he and Mister Honikker watch and play together especially. They're soft and gentle, worry free.

Aah, to have a sweet candy-filled love.

Instead, his heart is attracted to tragedy.

_ Ew. _

Feelings are just a burden. Better, then, to erase them the only way he knows how. By being obnoxiously happy! And, well, soap.

It sucks.

Would he be better of dead, then?

But no. He's been given the lucky chance of life, won the metaphorical lottery in that sense. He can't just do that.

Ugh. It's not like it gets that much better, anyway.

There are no walls physical this time to prevent him from being happy. It's just his body, his brain, his existence as a metaphorical prison, chained down by his own life.

Bennett isn’t a good person, either.

Never has been, probably never will be.

Sure, he’s seen things people would call horrors. Plenty, actually. Enough to leave scarring so deep he’s hardly afraid of anything at all.

But he’s contributed to horrors, too.

A girl in white and red, over and over and over.

Bennett’s reliant on those who he can see care about him.

A mad scientist used to, in his younger years.

And a clone boy who he considers his best friend.

Emotionally broken, he relies desperately on some semblance of love.

A love that is truly tragically one-sided, for better or for worse.

And even though there are others who surely care, he’ll never see them. It’s not the same.

A girl with hair dyed vibrant green and eyes of blue and purple.

A pair of twins in neon blue and pink.

… Yellow, yellow, yellow everywhere.

They care. They’re just broken, too.

Bennett doesn’t want broken people to fix him.

Bennett wants Felix to fix him.

But Felix Honikker can’t fix him.

For,

Felix Honikker, himself, is a tragedy.

And one of the many, many, repeating tragedies of his life.

It’s always going to hurt.

And it’ll all hurt again.

And his heart will shatter only to be brought back.

Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

Bennett “B12” is not a normal sixteen year old.

He’s a walking, talking, shard of glass.

**Author's Note:**

> bruh sometimes youre full of self loathing and Hatered and body dysmorphia  
> also as a kinnie personally headcanon bennett as a transboy so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Bruh, doesnt rly get referenced here but i dont really think it needs to be.


End file.
